Hey Clementine!
by mykindofparty
Summary: Clementine lived with two of the strangest women she had ever met in her entire nine-year-old life – and that was putting it nicely. They WERE her grandmothers after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Clementine**  
**By:** Lulu  
**A/N:** Thanks to Skillz for encouraging my madness.

* * *

Clementine lived with two of the strangest women she had ever met in her entire nine-year-old life – and that was putting it nicely. Despite the fact that they were barely pushing fifty, they were demented, daffy, and, she suspected, slightly deranged.

She sometimes wondered what they did while she was in school, but ultimately decided she was better off not knowing.

For example, every Wednesday when she got off the bus, they were in the backyard practicing cheers from their junior high days – stunts and uniforms included, although they usually went without underwear, since it was often hanging on the clothesline, no matter how many times Clementine reminded them that they owned a fully functional dryer. She wasn't sure how they got those old William McKinley uniforms anyway, which, with the exception of their sagging breasts, still fit.

Other times they'd watch old shows and movies and start to cry for no reason. Then an ancient song would come on the radio and they'd smile that loopy smile and squeeze Clementine tight. She hated those hugs, but she'd let them do it anyway, because she knew it probably meant a lot to them.

They _were_ her grandmothers after all.

Grandma Brittany, or Brittzle, as she insisted being called, worried Clementine. She owned six cats, three pigs, and a dachshund named the Duke of Windsor, and somehow managed to keep up with all of them, but would lose just about everything – including her glasses which were almost always on top of her head. When Clementine asked her why she liked the name Brittzle, she'd merely reply, "Because I'm a pretzel." Then she'd contort her body into different shapes until Clementine wondered why she even bothered asking in the first place.

Grandma Santana went by Granny Snix, which confused the hell out of Clementine, but she refused to be known as anything else. Clementine had called her Abuela once, because her class was learning Spanish that quarter, but soon realized that was a mistake. "I'm not your goddamn Abuela, Clem," she'd said, then proceeded to cry on the kitchen floor, only to brush it off moments later. "Sorry 'bout that, sweetie. What do you say we go flip the bird at the homophobes across the street?"

Clementine certainly had her hands full looking after Granny Snix and Brittzle, but they were the only family she had. Her father – who Granny Snix only ever described as a dipshit – died when Clementine was only a few months old and her mother, Sugar, disappeared shortly after her first birthday.

Her grandmothers, those basket cases, claimed she was stuck in the past.

"She's trapped in 2011," Granny Snix would always say, but Brittzle disagreed.

"2012, honey, although I suppose either way she's forever doomed to repeat tenth grade."

That was another thing that confused Clementine. Her mom had her when she was in high school. How was that even possible? Again, her grandmothers had the answer.

"She took after Aunt Quinn a little too much," they'd lament. Then one would say, "But if she'd taken after us, we wouldn't have you, Clem, now would we?" and they'd both laugh until their sides hurt.

Oh yes, Clementine lived with the strangest women alive, but they _were_ her grandmothers.

And she loved them all the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Hadn't planned on continuing this, but more popped into my head. I'm glad y'all love the idea of Brittany and Santana as batty old women as much as I do. Fact: they were partially inspired by Arnold's grandparents on Hey Arnold. There will be at least one more chapter after this one.

Many thanks to **Skillzyo** who is an amazing beta and an even more spectacular writer.

* * *

Clementine chewed on her eraser while trying to concentrate on her homework. Fourth grade math was the worst and her grandmothers were too busy to help her. From her seat in the kitchen, she could see Granny Snix out in the garden tending to the sugar peas and humming some tune that sounded about a hundred years old. In a weird way, it reminded Clementine of her mother, although she wasn't entirely sure why.

"_I met him out for dinner on a Friday night,"_ Granny Snix muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Clementine to hear through the screen door. _"He really got me workin' up an appetite-"_ That was as far as Granny Snix got before her cough set in, however. "Damn cigars," she wheezed, causing Clementine to giggle. "Clem? Don't ever start smoking."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not nearly as cool as it looks! Just– promise me you won't."

"Did Sugar?"

Calling her own mother by her first name sounded foreign on Clementine's lips, but she'd never really known her so she figured it was okay. Recently she'd wanted to learn more about her mom, which thrilled her grandmothers to no end. They finally had someone to talk to about their crazy conspiracy theories and since Clementine didn't have anyone else she could ask, she had to accept everything they told her as the truth.

"Nope," Granny Snix replied. "It was bad enough she was having sex– you know what? We'll have that talk when you're older. Now where's Britt?"

Clementine shrugged. Brittzle was probably tinkering around in the basement while the Duke of Windsor did their taxes. Or at least, Brittzle _claimed_ he did the taxes, but Clementine didn't know any other dachshunds who knew how to work a calculator, and if he could do that, why couldn't he help her with fractions?

She shook that thought right out of her head. She was starting to sound just like her grandmothers.

"Clear off the table in a minute," Granny Snix told her. "We're having company."

It was the first Clementine had heard of it. They almost never had visitors except when her other set of grandparents dropped by. Grandpa and Grandma H. were super dull in comparison so Clementine was secretly glad they rarely came around and hoped they weren't coming tonight. "I have to finish my homework."

Granny Snix shrugged, making her way into the kitchen and placing her basket of peas on the counter. "Finish your homework, don't finish your homework. I'll probably love you either way."

"Who's coming over?" Clementine asked, genuine curiosity getting the better of her.

"You'll see."

"When?"

"When he gets here."

"He?"

"Yes, Clem, now clear the table. I'm sure Britt will help you with your homework later, sweetie," Granny Snix promised. "We don't want our guest thinking we live in a pig sty!"

Just then, all three of their pigs stampeded through the kitchen on their way to the backyard, oinking merrily.

"Huh," Granny Snix mused, "I haven't seen a beast with worse timing since Lord Tubbington."

Just then, Brittzle emerged from the basement with the Duke of Windsor in tow. "Experiments 933, 934, and 935 were unsuccessful," she noted gravely. Every time Brittzle came upstairs from her lab, she looked a little sadder than before and Clementine never understood why. The only thing that really cheered her up was a kiss from Granny Snix or Clementine herself.

Fortunately for Clementine, Granny Snix raced over to Brittzle. She was _such_ a kiss hog.

"Trial and error, that's all it is, B," Granny Snix said, placing a comforting hand around her wife's waist. "Besides–"

The doorbell rang before she could finish her thought.

Brittzle perked up at the sound, her tired eyes suddenly sparkling. "Sugar?" she called.

"Nope," said a deep voice on the other side of the door, "but I'll take that nickname over Trouty Mouth any day."

"Sam!" Brittzle squealed, flinging open the door to reveal a man who Clementine had only seen in pictures.

"Hey, you old fart," Granny Snix greeted him with a hug.

"Who are you calling old, Grandma?" he kidded, returning the hug with a tight squeeze. "You got more grey hairs than you know what to do with!"

"Don't start with me, Sam Evans! I haven't seen you in years, which means I have plenty of mouth jokes."

Sam sighed. "I don't know how Brittany's put up with you all these years. I got sick of you after a month."

Granny Snix smacked him on the shoulder, earning her a reproachful look from Brittzle. "I dumped you, jackass," she said, whispering the last word, although Clementine could clearly hear everything they were saying.

The thought of her Granny dating _any_ man had never occurred to Clementine and the feeling was… strange.

Or maybe it was the fact that her grandmothers had dated other people.

She wasn't really sure.

It was then that Sam noticed her. "You must be Clementine," he said. "I've heard an awful lot about you."

She nodded shyly, unsure how to respond.

"That's a pretty necklace you're wearing," he commented.

She smiled, all traces of shyness suddenly gone. Sam was kind of nice; or at the very least nicer than Grandpa H. "Granny Snix and Brittzle gave it to me for my birthday," said Clementine.

"Really?" Sam asked. "All Santana ever gave me were headaches."

Granny Snix slugged him again for good measure.

"So," he said, "what's for dinner?"

Granny Snix and Brittzle exchanged glances.

"It's your turn to cook," her granny pointed out.

"Me?" Brittzle replied. "You're the one who invited him over. You cook!"

They both turned towards her. "Clem?"

Clementine shook her head. "I'm not allowed to use the stove."

Granny Snix gave them a mischievous smile that Clementine knew all too well. "Then there's only one solution," she said.

Thirty minutes later, Sam's whipped up a stack of pancakes that's almost as tall as Clementine. He looked a tiny bit annoyed, probably because he didn't come all this way to man a griddle for her crazy grandmothers, but he put smiley faces on all of them anyway.

"You always were the best at breakfast foods back in college," Brittzle told him.

"What were you the best at, Brittzle?" Clementine asked.

"Your school lunches don't pack themselves, Tangerine," Brittzle said, tapping the side of her head. Clementine hated when she called her by the wrong name, except when an occasional _Sug_ slipped out. "And Santana here was the queen of ordering takeout for dinner."

"I still have at least twelve of their numbers memorized," Granny Snix bragged.

"So you three lived together in college? Is that when you met? When did you date Sam? When did you start dating Brittzle?"

"Slow down, honey," said Brittzle. "There will be plenty of time for that after Sam goes to the store and gets us some ice cream."

By the time they're finished with their ice cream sundaes, with extra hot fudge, Clementine knows more about Sam than she does her own parents. It's not surprising because _they_ have never been a topic of discussion around the Pierce-Lopez household, not when there were animals to feed, gardens to tend, and precocious little girls to bathe and such.

Speaking of which, it was almost time for Clementine's bath, a nightly ritual she loathed. She had to use the same tub as her grandmothers, their three pigs, six cats, and the Duke of Windsor, though not at the same time.

"_Only having one bathroom is a real pain in the ass,"_ Granny Snix always said, and Clementine found she was most inclined to agree. The house was already too small for the three of them and with the addition of their ten pets, it was way too crowded.

But deep down, Clementine knew they couldn't move.

If they moved, Sugar wouldn't know where to find them if she ever made it out of 2011 or 2012, whichever the case was.

"If you spent a fraction of your time thinking about fractions instead of daydreaming, you'd understand your homework by now," Granny Snix said, snapping Clementine out of her daze. "But whatever you do, take a shower or something. You smell like a pig."

Slop, their only female hog, grunted in approval.

"Fine," Clementine mumbled, sluggish from too much ice cream.

She made it to the top stair before she needed a break so she sat down, where the Duke promptly joined her. From there, she curled up in the narrow hallway that led to the bathroom. She could hear the familiar clang of pots and pans and the sound of two of her favorite voices chastising their old friend for not offering to do the dishes.

When she woke up sometime later, the adults– if she could call them that– were still downstairs, only this time they were speaking in hushed tones.

"We were only able to conceive once, Sammy, and when Sug got pregnant, it was like a blessing in disguise. We'd forgotten how badly we wanted another child until our baby was going to have one." That was Brittzle, Clementine realized.

The next voice she heard was Granny Snix. "We pushed Sugar into keeping Clem and we– we– also pushed her into that dipshit's arms. He didn't want anything to do with their kid."

"I feel your pain," Sam said after a minute or two. "I'm just not sure what you want me to do."

"You write science fiction novels, don't you?"

Sam doesn't respond with words, but he must nod or something because the next thing Clementine knew, Brittzle was adding, "Maybe you can figure out what's wrong with my time machine."

"Science was never my strong suit, Britt," Sam admitted quietly. "I gotta tell you, Santana, when you called asking me for help, I did a little digging. You know what I found out? It's been over seven years since she disappeared. In the eyes of the law, she's legally dead."

"She's not dead and you know it," Granny Snix spat. "She's just… _stuck_ and we can't figure out how to get her back!"

"I know," said Sam. "You had life insurance for her, didn't you? Claim the money. Use it to get Britt more materials or put it up as a little starter money so that maybe she can get a federal grant. Fluke or not, the first one she invented worked, right?"

"It was not a _fucking_ fluke," Granny Snix replied. "Science has methods, okay? And she tried to recreate her experiment a million fucking times and it still hasn't worked. We need a second opinion or something."

"Sug must've done something to the machine right before she left," Brittzle whispered. "I just don't know what it was. I've tried over nine hundred times to duplicate it. And I can't."

At this point, Clementine crept down the stairs just far enough so that she could see into the dimly lit living room.

"I can't do this forever," Brittzle continued. "If I get to the 1,000th trial and my Sug isn't sitting in that time machine when I'm through, I quit."

"Brittany–"

"No, Santana. You called Sam on your own. I've about had enough living in the past, baby. Our granddaughter is our priority now."

Sam cleared his throat. "Um, I think I'm gonna go, but I'll help any way I can. I swear. Let me know, okay?"

He made his way toward the front door and Clementine froze in her hiding spot. She was only partially hidden by the shadows and she didn't want him to know she'd been spying, but by some miracle, he walked past her.

Her grandmothers, usually full of energy and life, looked exhausted.

Clementine wondered if this was how they always looked when she wasn't around.

It was at that moment she realized there were some things she might never understand, with fourth grade math being the least of her worries.


	3. Chapter 3

"This is it, Clem!" Granny Snix yelled over the whirr of the time machine. She and Clementine hid behind the blast-proof wall while Brittzle worked her magic. "I know it is!"

Brittzle bit her lip in concentration as she touched two wires together. Sparks began to fly and the machine began to buzz even louder. "Almost there," she said. Then, without warning, it shut itself down. Brittzle groaned in frustration. "Dammit!"

Next to her, Sam – whom Clementine had taken to calling Uncle Sam – sighed. "You guys need a swear jar or something."

Granny Snix made another mark on the chalkboard. "That's… 987 failed attempts."

Clementine looks at her Granny's math. It was actually 988, but she wasn't about to correct her. Ever since Clementine had confronted her grandmothers about the experiments, they'd shared everything with her.

How being a teenage mother was just too much responsibility for Sugar.

How she wanted a good life for Clementine, but didn't know how to give it to her.

How Grandma and Grandpa H. had fought super hard in court for custody of Clementine.

How Granny Snix and Brittzle had hired Aunt Quinn – the best lawyer they knew – to win the case.

"987, huh?" Brittzle wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "Good thing I'm only putting myself through this torture 13 more times because the harder I work to reach a solution, the further away I seem."

Clementine frowned. This wasn't the grandmother she knew and loved. Brittzle was spontaneous and outgoing and danced around the kitchen in her underwear. "Are you really giving up?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes.

Granny Snix looked at Brittzle and then back at Clementine. "No, Clem," she said. "She's not giving up. We never give up on the people we love."

Brittzle sighed. "She's right, Clementine. But if we don't find a solution soon I might need a break for my own sanity."

"I vote we take a five minute break now," said Uncle Sam. He took a seat on the floor of the basement. Brittzle joined him so Granny Snix and Clementine reluctantly followed. "Remember when Sugar used to eat cookies for lunch?"

"Cookies?" Clementine asked skeptically.

Sam licked his lips. "Sugar cookies. With pink frosting."

"She _loved_ the color pink," Granny Snix added.

Brittzle gave her wife a playful shove. "Only because you hated it."

"I still hate it to this day. Except for pink tacos, that is."

For a second, Sam looked like he was going to hyperventilate.

"What's a pink taco, Uncle Sam?" Clementine asked him.

Sam's eyes widened. "That's… it's not… stop saying things like that in front of your granddaughter, Santana!" he sputtered.

Granny Snix snorted. "She hears worse on the school bus. One of those foul-mouthed little shits got suspended for calling the driver a C-U-N-T."

"Well, she was kind of being a cunt," Clementine replied.

"Clem!" Granny Snix scolded. "How many times do I have to tell you? We _never_ use that word… unless we're talking about politicians." She squeezed Brittzle's hand. "You've been quiet."

"Just thinkin'," Brittzle said. "Sugar's been trapped in the past nearly ten years. Wouldn't it be funny if she figured out a way to communicate with us?"

"How? My memories haven't changed," Granny Snix said.

"Not us then. That would've most likely disrupted the space-time continuum. I'm talking about us now. Like… a hidden message."

Granny Snix sat up. "Hidden message? Like the kind I used to leave on the bathroom wall at Breadstix?"

"Exactly! Although BP & SL 4EVA wasn't all that subtle," Brittzle said.

"But if it exists, how will we find it?" Sam asked. "We don't live in Lima anymore."

Brittzle thought for a moment. "It would have to be something we kept after all this time… something from high school."

Granny Snix snapped her fingers. "Our cheerleading uniforms."

"No," Brittzle shook her head. "It would be instructions or an equation of some sort. In a note maybe."

"What about a math book?" Clementine asked. "That's where all of my equations are."

"That's it!" Brittzle paused. "Well, not a math book. But _a_ book. The yearbook, more specifically."

Granny Snix beamed. "My geniuses!"

They raced up the stairs from the basement to the living room.

"It's not in any of my yearbooks," Brittzle said after scouring through all five volumes.

"Ewww… Your hands are all dusty," Clementine said, frowning. "When's the last time you looked at these things?"

Granny Snix snorted. "She never does."

Brittzle rolled her eyes. "That's because you look at yours enough for the both of us," she teased.

"What? I like rereading what you wrote," Granny Snix said. She winked at Clementine. "Our Britt was a poet in another life, you know."

Brittzle smiled sadly. "If I had stuck with poetry we wouldn't be in this mess."

Clementine turned to Granny Snix. "But if you read your yearbooks all the time, what if Sugar left the message for you?" she asked.

Granny Snix and Brittzle exchanged glances before sprinting over to the bookshelf. "Senior year, Britt. It was the only year we were both at McKinley," Granny Snix said once they'd pulled the correct book off the shelf. "Told ya she was trapped in 2012."

"You said 2011," Brittzle argued.

"Whatever. Let's just see if Sugar's as smart as my other two girls."

"Hey! I got the ball rolling on this whole discussion. Does that count for anything?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Granny Snix replied. "You're surrounded by brilliant women, Sam. Deal with it."

Brittzle flipped through the pages one at a time, examining each one carefully. "_Santana_," she gasped.

"What? What is it?" Granny Snix asked, alarmed.

Brittzle held up the book. "I didn't know Rachel wrote in here!"

"She wouldn't take no for an answer," Granny Snix replied.

"Who's Rachel?" Clementine questioned.

"Your grandmas used to make fun of her a lot back in high school," Sam told her. "But then she and Santana kind of became friends and Brittany still hated her."

Clementine crossed her arms. "If Brittzle doesn't like her, then I don't like her either."

Brittzle didn't even try to hide her smile as she continued her search. After what seemed like hours later, she stood up abruptly.

"What is it, Britt?" Santana called.

Brittzle didn't respond; she just carried the book downstairs with Santana and Clementine hot on her heels, nobody bothering to wake Sam, who had fallen asleep on the couch.

"This is it, Clem," Granny Snix whispered, repeating her earlier words. The first time Clementine heard her say that, it sounded more like a jinx.

Now it was their mantra.

"This is it," Clementine echoed with a nod.

"Wrench," Brittzle said, holding her hand out. Clementine handed it to her. "Pliers." Clementine handed her those too.

"Screwdriver," Brittzle muttered, taking it out of her toolbox herself. She took a sip. "Needs more vodka."

"Britt, are you gonna tell us what's going on?" Granny Snix asked.

"Nope," Brittzle replied before resuming her work. "Because the second I start talking about nuts and bolts you'll start giggling."

"Hey! I _never_ laugh about bolts," Granny Snix said, nudging Clementine in the ribs.

Clementine rolled her eyes. Even at this crucial moment, her grandmothers were still joking around like teenagers.

She loved that about them.

"Hand me that hammer, Clementine," said Brittzle. She banged on the machine a few times for good measure. "Okay, I think she's ready."

Granny Snix pulled Clementine behind the blast-proof wall once more while Brittzle flipped the switch.

To their disappointment, nothing happened.

"Whoops! I unplugged it a few minutes ago while I was tinkering away," Brittzle apologized, plugging the machine back into the wall. She took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."

She flipped the switch one more time, keeping her fingers crossed with her other hand. The machine began to buzz. Clementine looked at Granny Snix and then at Brittzle, watching their reactions closely.

The buzzing grew louder and the lights above them began to flicker.

"It's working!" Brittzle yelled over the noise.

"Great! But… maybe you should stand back here with us," Granny Snix said nervously. "That thing looks unstable and it's not that I don't trust Sugar's instructions, it's just that she's been stuck in the tenth grade for nearly a decade now. Her understanding of time machine mechanics has probably peaked!"

All of a sudden, there was a blinding flash of light. Granny Snix threw herself over Clementine, protecting her. The machine's buzzing died down and the next thing Clementine knew, her granny was shouting.

"Brittany!" she yelled. "I swear… if you died of a heart attack I will _kill_ you."

"I'm okay," Brittzle called back.

"Just checking," she replied. "You know we're supposed to go out in a blaze of naked glory."

"Gross."

Clementine quirked her head to the side. That didn't sound like Brittzle's voice.

Clementine pushed Granny Snix off of her and darted around the blast wall, but she soon froze when she saw Brittzle hugging a teenage girl.

"What took you so long? I was starting to make straight A's! Being stuck in a loop is no fun when you have to repeat the same classes over and over again," the girl said, sinking into Brittzle's embrace. "Although not aging was a _total_ plus."

"My baby," Granny Snix cried out, going over to hug them both.

Clementine watched as the three reunited.

"Clem? There's someone I want you to meet," Granny Snix called after a while.

"This is your mama, Clementine," Brittzle said. "This is Sugar."

Clementine took a tiny step forward, feeling shy. She'd been waiting for this moment her entire life and now that it had arrived, she wasn't quite sure how to react. "Hi," she said.

Sugar let go of her mothers and kneeled down to Clementine's level, fresh tears in her eyes. "Hey there, Clem. I suppose we have a little catching up to do."

Granny Snix snorted. "Just a little?"

"We've got plenty of time," Brittzle said, planting a kiss on her wife's cheek.

"Hey!" Sam said from the top of the stairs. "Is everyone okay? I heard some weird noises."

"We'd be a whole lot better if we had some pancakes," Granny Snix replied. She squeezed Sugar's arm. "And be sure to set five places at the table."

Clementine smiled.

Her family was a little crazy, but they were finally whole again.


End file.
